Dragon Ball Z: The Mad God
by Nickyjoet
Summary: A mad god has come to earth seeking Kami-sama, but the guardian of earth has long been merged with Piccolo. In a desperate search for power, the god threatens the earth and the only people that can stop him are the Z warriors. Told through the perspective of the Z warriors.
1. Piccolo

**(A/N): **Hey everyone! I'm like... Back and stuff! Been away for a long, long time. Before I get back to "Still Meant to Be" I wanna get this out. Get me back in the swing of writing things. Enjoy this. Because I'm working really effin' hard on it.

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The battlefield rumbled without pause, the ground was blackened and scorched in places throughout the cracked, broken terrain. There was a battle taking place, a struggle that none of the warriors that came to face it had ever faced before. They had been all but defeated, barely alive, save for one. The one still fought on while the others were unconscious, or just watched as that was all they could do.

One of the warriors awoke from his coma, groaning and grunting as he pushed himself painfully into a stand. His green, grooved arms were heavily damaged, with open wounds that poured forth his purple blood. Whether the wounds hurt or not, he didn't show it as he looked over the battlefield, his stoic gaze shifting slowly over the torn landscape. His pointed ears flickered as he listened to the booming sounds of battle around him, though he paid it no heed for the time being, trying to piece together what had happened. His eyes widened, his stoic expression now gone as he began to recall what had happened:

He had been sitting on the grounds of the palace that was located on a hemisphere which floated high above the earth. It was all tiled, save for the planters that large, exotic trees grew out from. The fortress was home to the current guardian of earth, and had been home to the previous guardians from generations ago. The warrior lived here now; it felt more like home since he had merged bodies with the most recent guardian, Kami.

The old man was of the same race as the warrior; same green skin, same pointed ears, and the same antennae that sprouted from his forehead; they were namekians. The warrior's namesake and father, Piccolo, had originally been one with Kami before the guardian forced him out, for that half of himself was of pure evil, a corrupt demon. The demon had perished, and left behind only his son. While he was born to carry out his evil father's mission, he ended up siding with good, and when the earth was threatened by foes much greater than he could defeat, he did what he once had thought to be sinful. He merged with Kami. His only reason had been to gain great power in which he would defeat the new foes, but with that power came Kami's knowledge, and whether Piccolo knew it or not, the old guardians goodly nature came with as well. So, indeed, the palace was in fact his home, even when it once was a place was most foul to him. Now, however, it was the place this whole mess began.

He was meditating, as he usually did when he sat out on the palace grounds. So peaceful it was to sit on the tiled floor, no sound but the wind, the trees creaking in the breeze, as well as his white cape whipping behind him. He wore the cape that draped over weighted shoulder-guards that he had once used for training, but now were just there for show, as they now felt weightless to him. Upon his head was set another piece of weighted gear, a white turban with some, large purple orb that rested within the white material. As with his shoulder gear, it too felt weightless to him. It felt especially weightless now that he was meditating, in fact, it was as if he had erased his presence save for his mind. He was in a state of seemingly unbreakable peace. He was quickly torn from that peace, however, when he heard a loud explosion from behind him.

He turned, remaining seated for the moment as he took in the sight before him. The whole top of the palace was gone, replaced by flame and embers as it seemed the roof had just blown of cleanly. From the entrance of the building came Dende, a young namekian who had become earth's newest guardian, and Popo, the servant of the guardians. They looked panicked as they rushed toward Piccolo. The namekian stood, Dende and Popo promptly rushed behind the warrior's flowing cape.

Piccolo kept his eyes locked on the palace and its immediate surroundings as he spoke to the two behind him, "What did this?"

Dende trembled, "Two men… They just appeared here and asked about Kami. When I told them he was gone, they-" He was cut off when a large, crimson beam of energy exploded from inside the palace.

Piccolo barely had time to show his surprise as he roared out and sent his arm out, palm open, catching the blast with a grunt. It continued to hammer into his hand until the beam ended, leaving the namekian's hand smoking, yet seemingly unharmed besides that. The warrior glared, peering at the smoking entrance to the palace as he could just see two figures silhouetted against the smoke. One of the figures laughed.

"Kami is gone, so who is this fool?" the figure asked, obviously addressing Piccolo.

The warrior namekian took a step forward, "My name is Piccolo, and now may I ask what is yours?" He was answered by a crimson blast of energy. The glowing projectile was quickly knocked away by a swift backhand from the namekian warrior. He growled, "Trust me, fools. You do _not_ want to mess with me!"

Both figures stepped from the smoke then, their pale faces showed that they were not amused. The shorter of the two wore silver garb that covered his thin frame. The long sleeved shirt he wore was done up by golden colored buttons, while his legs were covered by baggy pants the same silver color as his top. His feet were adorned by white boots, seemingly leather, with matching bracers that adorned his wrists, leaving his hands bare. His red-orange hair was short and neatly trimmed, and his eyes matched, being of a blood red. His companion, however, was the most impressive, by far. He was handsome, his skin the same pale color as the other. His eyes were of an intense blue, an icy, yet alluring stare that bore into those who glanced into them. His hair was red-orange, just like the other, but it was longer and neater by far. It was the hair of a royal warrior, and Piccolo took note of this. His outfit consisted of golden plate armor that covered his bare torso, a torso that was rippling with impressive muscles. The armor was decorated with strange symbols; obviously it was a different language, a language most foreign to the planet earth. On his waist was a black leather belt, with a large golden buckle that had the same writing on it. The belt held up the same type of baggy pants that the other had on, only it was decorated with golden writing. On his feet were golden plated boots, and on his hands were the matching gauntlets. And then, flowing freely from his shoulders and down his back was a white cape, outlined in a golden trim. Indeed, this man was of royal background.

The muscled man looked toward Piccolo sternly, his mouth pulled into a tight grimace. "I am Kureiji." It was the same voice from before, "I seek Kami, the guardian of this planet." He pointed to the young namekian behind Piccolo, "And that is not he."

Piccolo smirked, "It's not." The warrior jabbed a thumb into his own chest, "Kami is here. I am the union of he and my former persona, Piccolo. Though I have kept the name, I am far different."

Kureiji's face twisted with rage, "Then the young one. He is the new guardian of this planet?"

Piccolo quickly changed the subject, not wanting to put Dende in needless danger, he decided to ask a question, "What is your true purpose here?"

Kureiji calmed a bit, a wicked smile coming to his face, "I seek out all gods in the galaxies."

Piccolo's brow rose curiously, "Why is that?"

"Simple; I wish them gone so that I may rule over the four galaxies: North, south, east and west!" The muscled man cackled.

Piccolo scoffed, "You're insane."

Kureiji's laugh ended abruptly, instead he now snarled, "Fool! You have not seen what I have seen! You know not my destiny! If you get in the way, you shall perish like the rest of them!"

Piccolo's ears flickered agitatedly, "'the rest of them?'" he asked.

"The gods I have ended, of course." He said simply, without emotion.

The namekian bared his fangs, "You're an insane monster." He threw an arm forward, his hand out, palm open, his other hand coming in to grasp over his wrist. He roared out as a large blast of red-yellow energy escaped the palm of his hand, rocketing toward Kureiji and his companion. The blast was met by the companions own crimson blast, resulting in a shockwave that sent the trees ripping from their place in the planters.

Piccolo's blast continued as he looked over his shoulder, growling as he continued to pour forth energy into the blast. "Dende… Popo! Get away from the lookout now! Get to somewhere safe." With that, he turned his attention fully on the struggle at hand.

As they were instructed, Dende took Popo and escaped the lookout to find a place to hide on earth, which ended up making Kureiji more than a little angry.

The brute roared out in anger and he pushed his companion aside, "Useless boy!" he screamed, the smaller man's beam ending, leaving Piccolo's beam to overpower it and slam right into Kureiji's now outstretched palms. To the namekian's surprise, the burly man seemed to be easily holding his own against the blast, and then to Piccolo's horror, the man sent a horribly corrupt looking black ball of energy into the green man's energy blast. The namekian ended his beam and dodged to the side, but Kureiji only laughed as his hands clenched into fists. The black ball quickly shrunk into nothing, seeming to just disappear from sight. But not even a second later, the air exploded, and the hemisphere known as the Lookout was blasted to bits. Piccolo fell into blackness, at least for a little while.

The namekian shook his head, back to the present. After the initial explosion of the Lookout, his memories of the events following were a haze. He looked around at the battlefield again, trying to hear past the incessant rumbling, trying to hear for anyone. Nothing, the rumbling was almost deafening, and with his enhanced hearing he wouldn't be able to hear anything else. Thoughts began nagging at him. Who else had been here fighting? Was anyone still alive? And then it hit him hard; where was Gohan? He knew that the boy he had once trained would be around, especially if a fight such as this was going on. Piccolo, once the demon that Kami had cast out, had come to care for Gohan as if the boy were his own son, and so his mind was almost panicked. Again he scanned the area, this time noticing a pile of rubble that seemed to have once been the walls of a tall building. The rubble shifted and toppled over as a form appeared in a cloud of dust, the figure was revealed to Piccolo. It was someone he knew, but it wasn't Gohan. The blue, almost skin tight outfit the man wore was in tatters, his white gloves now dirty and scuffed badly. His black, flame crested hair filled with dirt and debris. His skin was cut, bruised and bleeding. Piccolo wasn't surprised that the man had survived, not even surprised that the man either didn't notice his wounds, or just didn't care. He wasn't surprised, because this man was Vegeta.


	2. Vegeta

**(A/N): ** No one seems to be reading this. :( saaaaad face... But I will continue! Only two chapters left! Haha!

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The saiyan prince opened his eyes and only saw blackness, with only bits of light showing through. He could hear loud rumbling from beyond wherever he was currently positioned. Shifting, Vegeta felt that there was some sort of rock or cement that was incasing him, and when he felt over the hard surface, he began to feel the telltale signs that this had once been part of a building. How the hell did he get here?

Vegeta had been standing outside his home in the Capsule Corp. building that was in the middle of West City. He constantly fought himself on whether or not he truly liked life on this planet. He was a saiyan, an alien being that had a monkey tail, though his had been forcefully removed long ago. It wasn't too important, it only allowed him to transform into a giant monkey, known as the oozaru, and he could only transform during a full moon. He didn't need the transformation anymore, since he was far more powerful than he once was, and the ape form would only hinder him. Even without the transformations, saiyans were deadly, and were used to conquer planets to sell to other races. So, Vegeta, knowing his past reputation, came to fight with himself constantly over his "betrayal".

Not only did he live on this planet, but he had a family; a wife named Bulma and a son named Trunks. He loved them both, yet didn't show it as much as he probably should have, but he was a stubborn, angry saiyan. And as a saiyan prince, such feelings were below him! He was once a ruthless killer, a true member of his race!

He had come to earth after one of the only saiyans left, named Raditz, was killed on the planet by a rogue saiyan traitor, who, ironically enough, was Raditz's younger brother. Vegeta and his partner, Nappa, had heard through the devices they wore on their faces that earth held seven dragon balls, much like the ones they had heard stories about. Yet those "dragon balls" were rumored to be on the planet Namek. They were going to wish for immortality, but they were defeated on earth by the rogue saiyan and his friends. Vegeta was the only of the two saiyans to come to earth to survive, and before he escaped in his space pod, he had sworn to destroy earth one day. Yet now here he was, standing in the yard of an earthly home, many years after that oath.

He smirked, staring into the clouds as he thought about all of this, but then to the east he sensed something. It was a source of an unknown energy, and then to his dismay, the energy multiplied. What the hell was it? He focused in on it and felt another explosion of energy, and soon a familiar energy source joined it, combating the other. It was Piccolo.

Vegeta had to see what this was about, that energy was larger than his own, and Piccolo wouldn't stand a chance. The saiyan's body began to emit a golden glow, his fists clenched at his sides as his pitch black hair began to turn a golden yellow. His energy exploded around him as his normally black eyes were now a brilliant green. He'd transformed into a super saiyan, once a legend on his planet. He blasted into the sky without a word to his family, he'd rather they not get involved.

Vegeta flew for a long time, realizing he was heading toward the Guardian's Lookout. He was more intent upon reaching his destination now that Piccolo's energy had decreased, meaning he had most likely been defeated. Luckily the namekian was not dead. The saiyan prince let out a surge of energy that sent him faster toward his destination.

He arrived to see that the lookout was gone, save for the floating debris. He powered down, his hair returning to its normal, black colored state. He floated in midair, his features tense.

"What the hell happened here?" he muttered aloud to himself, and after just a moment, he spun around, sensing a presence behind him.

A burly, pale figure in brilliant gold armor floated with a thinner pale figure in silver and white floating at his side. The usually unshakeable Vegeta couldn't help but cringe at the sight of Piccolo being held up by his skull with the strong hand of the larger, burly figure. The namekian was alive, but unconscious, his clothes tattered and beaten. The saiyan prince quickly regained his nonchalant attitude as he looked to the muscle-bound man.

The man spoke, "I seek information."

Vegeta smirked, "Did blowing this place up give you that information?"

The burly man didn't seem to like Vegeta's joke, "No I did not." He lifted Piccolo up more, "I sought out this man, but seeing as how he is no longer guardian of this planet, I am now seeking its _true_ guardian. Where is he?"

Vegeta knew the new guardian was Dende, however, knowing the others on this planet, he wouldn't reveal that. "I don't think I will tell you that… Now, why don't you let the namekian go before I make you?"

"Ha!" The burly man laughed, "Threatening words coming from such a small man. However, the great Kureiji does not need to waste time with you!" He looked to the smaller man, "Shiyo, dispose of him."

Shiyo quickly lunged forward without blinking an eye, he seemed uninterested as he spun around, leg swinging in for a powerful kick, but the saiyan prince was ready as he easily moved backward, the kick missing him. Shiyo didn't seem to mind as he spun once more and this time threw an arm forward, sending a blast of crimson energy toward the saiyan.

Vegeta put on that same, arrogant smirk. His gloved hand went up, catching the crimson ki and then threw his arm out wide, sending the blast into the horizon where it slammed into a mountain, greatly damaging the face of the rocky mount.

Shiyo's nonchalant face remained so as he eyed Vegeta, hoping to find any sort of advantage. Shrugging, he charged toward the saiyan prince, sending a barrage of kicks and punches. Vegeta masterfully dodged Shiyo's oncoming limbs, but then the pale man powered up silently, making not a sound as a crimson aura exploded around him, his punches and kicks coming in faster and more powerfully. Vegeta growled as it became more difficult to dodge his opponent's attacks, unable to dodge, the prince of saiyans accepted his fate and tensed as the quick fists and feet pummeled into his body painfully.

Despite his success, Shiyo's face remained indifferent as he relentlessly beat down on the saiyan. Vegeta felt those blows making contact with his body, but he had felt worse and took the pain without complaint, however he wouldn't be able to shrug off these blows with such ease if this continued a while longer. Acting quickly, the saiyan roared out, an unseen shockwave exploded around him, and Shiyo was caught by surprise, blown back a ways before flipping in midflight, righting himself to look at Vegeta.

Finally the man's nonchalant face disappeared, replaced by a look of slight shock as he now looked to Vegeta, whose black hair had now turned golden yellow. Piercing green eyes stared at Shiyo. Vegeta grinned a cocky grin.

Kureiji's brow rose, head tilting. "What are you?" He asked.

Vegeta's green eyes shifted to look at the burly man, "I am a saiyan, the prince of saiyans. And this," he addressed the yellow hair and his enhanced power, "Is a super saiyan."

Kureiji almost seemed nervous at that, "Saiyan… I've heard tales of the saiyans' power, but a super saiyan, that was a legend, a myth." He eyed Vegeta and then smiled devilishly, "It seems the stories were true then." He laughed, "Well, no matter. Super saiyans don't scare me." He looked to Shiyo, "Cease your attack."

The smaller man obeyed and returned to being indifferent, his eyes on the super saiyan.

Kureiji released his grip on Piccolo's head and the namekian plummeted, his unconscious form careening toward the earth. Vegeta paid the action no heed, Piccolo would survive, he instead watched Kureiji with mild interest, a smirk planted on his features as he watched the burly man.

Vegeta was quickly overwhelmed.

Contradictory to his large size, Kureiji was to the saiyan prince in an instant, his power greatly outmatching even the super saiyan's. Vegeta couldn't keep up with what was happening, his vision blurred, right eye stinging when he tried to open it, and when he did, all he saw was red. His senses were the only thing he could trust at the moment, and he felt a power approaching, it was familiar. It was Son Gohan. Vegeta wanted to call out to the saiyan traitor's son, Kakarrot's son, to tell him to run, that the enemy was far too powerful, but he couldn't. Still he felt stinging blows blasting him from all sides. He felt himself power down against his will, and the pain intensified. Suddenly it stopped, his consciousness wavering. He felt Gohan close, muffled voices were heard, and then he felt a sharp pain on his head. He blacked out for a moment, and when he awoke he heard the rush of wind as he was falling. He felt intense pain throughout his entire body and blacked out once more.

Vegeta couldn't help but laugh as he returned from recalling the events previous. He barely felt the pain from earlier, and his right eye seemed fine, aside from dried blood surrounding it. Gohan had joined the fight, but what happened to him?

The saiyan prince pushed himself from the debris with slight difficulty, but eventually broke free to hear the rumbling of the barren battlefield all too clearly.

"Vegeta." Called the familiar voice of Piccolo.

The saiyan prince turned to regard the namekian with a nod.

Piccolo looked around, "Have you seen Gohan?"

Vegeta shook his head, "No, but he was fighting, could be still." He smirked.

The namekian sighed and tried to sense for Gohan, but the two energies colliding against each other were overpowering his senses. "Damn, I can't even sense him."

Vegeta continued to search with his eyes, "He can't be too far." The saiyan prince motioned for the namekian to follow as he started to walk through the rumbling battlefield.

Minutes went by, Piccolo had begun calling out for Gohan, but his voice was drowned out by the incessant rumbling of the area. Vegeta remained silent, just looking around for any signs of Kakarrot's son. Soon they came across a small crater, and sure enough, Gohan was at the bottom of it, sprawled out.

Without a word Piccolo floated himself easily down to the young man, and reaching down he checked his former student's pulse. There was a heartbeat.

"He's alive." Piccolo informed the saiyan prince.

Vegeta figured he would be, but the prince smirked, hearing the rumbling again, sensing the two powers colliding. The saiyan knew that only one other person could challenge Kureiji, but that didn't matter right now, he would aid Piccolo in waking Gohan.


End file.
